A Lonely Night
by Maelo
Summary: On a rainy night a mysterious character leads Batman on a strange path to discover the meaning behind a seemingly insignificant item that could be the key to saving someone's life.
1. Chapter 1

_(The Twins, Jimmie Morretti, and Mandy Stone are original characters created by me.)_

_(I have no such claim on Batman, Alfred or any of the other beloved characters in the Batman Universe, they are owned by DC Comics/Warner Bros. Studios)_

_I hope you like it._

* * *

It is a little past midnight. The storm has been raging for hours now. There seems no end to the constant barrage of thunder and lightning filling the dark sky. No one in their right mind would be caught outside in this weather. But this city has more than its fair share of people who are not in their right mind and that is why he braves the wind and rain and continues his nightly duties. Perched atop a stone gargoyle hanging off the side of a building, Batman's cape snaps about in accordance with the wind. As unmoving as the gargoyle under him, Batman's eyes survey the city below. Gotham's streets are bare, it seems he is alone in this great city tonight.

He decides to call it a night when blocks away he sees a lone car going down an alley. It comes out of the alley and speeds down the street in the opposite direction. Something strikes him odd about the car, standing up he reaches into his cape and takes out his grappling hook. Extending his arm, he aims for the rooftop across the street and shoots. Before the hook even reaches the other side and secures itself, he propels himself off the building, timing it just right so as he is in is downward decent the hook catches and he swings across.

Keeping his focus on his objective he goes from rooftop to rooftop trailing the speeding car.

The car finally enters the warehouse district and stops in front of an abandoned warehouse. Still some blocks away Batman stops his pursuit and pulls out his night vision binoculars and watches as a dark figure gets out of the car and enters the warehouse.

Batman emerges from the shadows of the alley across the street from where the dark figure entered and immediately notices something that could not possibly be. He crosses the street and walks up to a hunk of metal that at one time could have passed for a car. Rusted and missing large pieces from its body the car looks like it has sat in a junkyard for the last decade. Batman knows that in Gotham nothing is what it seems, he places his gloved hand on the hood, its cold. Could this be the same car that just pulled up here?

His curiosity is now at an all time high and he decides to enter the warehouse when he notices that the handles are chained and locked. A quick inspection of the lock and chain tells him that it has been that way for some time. Batman grabs the pen shaped laser cutter from his belt and goes to work on the chain.

The doors creaks open; Batman's imposing silhouette glides inside, his cape wrapped around his body. His keen senses reach out in an attempt to detect any movement. Rain slowly drips down from the holes in the roof. Looking out the tall windows at the other end of the warehouse he sees that the stars have made their first appearance of the night as the storm is finally passing. Out over the ocean tiny flashes of lightning dance across the sky.

A noise grabs his attention, he moves from around the empty shelves peering down a hallway to an office in the back. A light in the office is on. Just as he is about to move toward the office a rat scurries out of the way and screeches in fear, the light quickly goes out, Batman rushes down the hall and throws open the door. The office is empty. He walks over to the desk lamp and turns the switch, it does not turn on. He inspects the lamp and finds there is no bulb inside of it. A car's engine kicking over and tires squealing fill the night air. By the time Batman is back outside, the car and any sign of it are gone.

Batman returns to the office, the glow from the full moon spills in from the window behind the desk. From his belt he removes his spectral analyzer and places it to his eye searching the desk and lamp. No fresh fingerprints can be found. The desk's drawers only divulge cobwebs and dust balls. With the aid of his flashlight he notices that the dust on the shelf of a bookcase seems to have been manipulated recently, as if someone wiped the dust away. Probing the area he runs his hand underneath the shelf and finds a switch. Pushing it in causes the framed artwork on the opposite wall to slide down revealing an old safe embedded in the wall.

* * *

Alfred Pennyworth walks down the long narrow staircase leading down into the Bat cave, carrying proudly in his hands a superbly polished silver-serving tray. On the tray sit a steaming cup of coffee and a delectable pastry. Just as his foot leaves the last step and hits the floor of the cave the low rumble of the Batmobile's engine fills the air combining with the flapping of fleshy wings and the screams of the bats that also call this cave home. The Batmobile zooms into view stopping abruptly, the driving compartment hatch slides open and Batman jumps out.

"Perfect timing sir, if I do say so myself."

"Good morning Alfred, you're up early."

"Last night was a most dreadful night and I thought a nice cup of hot coffee would do wonders to warm those chilled bones of yours Master Bruce."

"What would I do without you Alfred?"

He decides not to remind Alfred that the unique design of the suit keeps him free from dealing with the harsher elements of the weather. Besides even if Alfred knew that little fact, which he probably does, he would still be there waiting after a cold night with a warm refreshment in hand.

Batman lifts the cowl above his head grabs the cup and takes a well-received sip.

"Alfred, do you believe in ghosts?"

"Ghosts, Master Bruce?"

After a short pause, "Nothing, never mind. You must be exhausted, why don't you go back up to bed and catch up on sleep."

"Sleep? Nonsense sir, this manor does not take care of itself you know. Just leave the dishes I will be by to pick them up later."

He watches Alfred ascend the long staircase up to the manor.

"Alfred."

Alfred stops and turns around.

"Yes Master Bruce?"

Batman lifts the cup into the air.

"Thank you."

"Of course, Master Bruce."

With a nod of his head and a warm smile Alfred disappears up the stairs.

* * *

Out of the suit and in an expensive perfectly tailored bathrobe, Batman sits at one of the many workstations in the Bat cave peering into a microscope. Alfred comes down the stairs.

"You know how I hate to interrupt you, sir."

"Yes, what is it, Alfred?" responds Bruce as he continues to gaze into the scope.

"The annual stockholders brunch at the Emerald Hills Country Club will be starting in two hours." "You are giving the closing speech."

Undeterred by this oversight his attention remains on his work.

"Master Bruce?"

He finally looks up.

"Alfred, a very peculiar thing happened last night. I can't get my head around it and the only clue I have to go on is this small piece of half burnt paper that I found in a hidden safe at an abandoned warehouse." He takes the slide out from the microscope and hands it to Alfred.

Alfred looks it over quickly, "Looks like an ordinary piece of paper, sir." He is about to hand it back when he notices something, "Wait, this insignia here, it seems familiar."

"Yes, that is the logo of the company that occupied the building at one time, a company called Simpson Securities, they manufactured high end locks, safes, and vaults for banks, the government and even private use. They had a lucrative business for some time but went out of business close to thirty years ago. The warehouse where I found that piece of paper has changed owner hands a couple times after that, but now has been abandoned for some time."

After a long pause and mostly to himself he carries on, "I can't escape the feeling that it was leading me to something else. It went to too much trouble to get my attention." He walks away towards the staircase with face down his chin held in his hand.

"_It_, Master Bruce? I'm afraid you lost me sir, do you mean to say someone other than yourself was out in that dreadful weather last night", he asks curiously. "Another escapee from Arkahm……….. the Joker perhaps?"

Already halfway up the stairs, he answers without turning around. "No, I checked Arkahm, all guests present and accounted for." After a short pause he finally comes to the only conclusion left. "No Alfred, I was all alone last night."

Before Alfred can respond Master Bruce is out of sight, he looks back at the slide still in his hand

"Peculiar indeed."

* * *

Later that day at the Emerald Hills Country Club, Bruce Wayne basks in the after glow of his speech in the large hall where the stockholders brunch is taking place. Standing right below the podium where he just spoke the attendees shake hands and congratulate him as they make their way to the large table at the center of the room where the buffet brunch is being served. Two chefs at either end of a large table take orders as others acquire their meal from the fresh fruit and already prepared food slowly cooking on open flames throughout the table. The hall is beautifully decorated with fresh exotic flowers and at the center of the large table is an ice sculpture-depicting twin rearing horses.

At the entrance of the hall a tall long-legged, astonishingly beautiful woman enters.

The porter, who takes a second to catch his breath upon looking at her perfectly formed face, stops her and says in a stuffy voice, "Excuse me Miss, this is a private event."

Many of the people nearby as is seldom the case when one with such rare beauty enters a room, look up from their plates and conversations to take notice. The majority of onlookers immediately recognize her while quickly informing the ones who can't quite place her on who she is. A handsome ambitious man, who was serving himself a plate of food and now has stopped to watch the unfolding scene at the door, puts down his plate and rushes over.

After several attempts to enter the hall, the porter, despite the ladies' beauty, has had quite enough of this young woman and her persistence at trying to crash the brunch. As he is about to pick up the phone and call security the handsome man unabashedly inserts himself into the situation.

"Uh, excuse me, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding but she's with me," he says through one of his best put on smiles.

Not one to miss an opportunity the beautiful woman responds to the handsome man as if she has known him for years.

She moves smoothly toward the man and puts her arm in his, looks back and says to the porter. "Satisfied?"

The porter sheepishly replies, "Of course Miss, I was only doing my job. I would like to say though that I am a big fan and - -"

She waves him off, "Yeah, yeah who isn't?"

They begin to walk off arm in arm when over her shoulder she tells the porter nonchalantly, "They're with me."

Her entourage, a group of six people follow behind her making an even bigger scene. The porter helplessly watches as they all walk inside.

More than happy with himself the handsome man walks by a few tables enjoying the looks he is receiving by having such a famous and beautiful woman on his arm. A circumstance that unfortunately for him is about to change.

As they make their way further into the hall he notices even though her arm is entwined with his, her attention is clearly not with him. Without regard for his help or even of his presence she takes back her arm and walks away excitedly whispering to one of her entourage, a short red haired woman. The handsome man begins to follow after her with his arm outstretched reaching for her. He abruptly stops when twin large black men, wearing expensive suits and dark shades block his path. Their arms are crossed over their chests and their stern granite expressions look down at him. Quickly getting the idea, he straightens his tie, smoothes out his jacket with both hands and then embarrassedly walks away.

Bruce Wayne continues to graciously shake well wisher's hands as he engages in conversation with one of the stockholders. As his full concentration is upon the person in front of him, his well-honed senses enable him to discern the change in the atmosphere, particularly by the front entrance. With his peripheral vision he views a tall beautiful woman walking at a swift pace pointing and heading in his direction with a shorter red haired woman in tow.

"I must say Mr. Wayne you really outdid last years meeting. Have you tried the lobster omelet?"

Bruce quickly interjects, "You know what? I think I just might do that. If you'll excuse me." Bruce shakes the man's hand but does not get far when a lady with poofy hair intercepts him and proceeds to tell him how delightfully decorated the hall is.

The poofy haired lady begins to change the conversation as Bruce politely listens to an explanation on which direction Wayne Industries should be heading. Bruce feels a tap on his shoulder, upon turning around he finds Lucius Fox looking a bit uncomfortable.

"Sorry to interrupt Bruce, there is someone here that is very interested in meeting you." Stepping right in front of the poofy haired lady and blocking her view of Bruce, the red haired woman from the entourage takes over the introduction.

"May we take a moment of your time?" She asks rhetorically, and then continues on. "By the way fabulous shindig you have going on here, the food smells delicious.

Suspecting that this might take awhile and sensing the awkwardness of Lucius and the poofy haired woman, Bruce places his hand up stopping the red haired woman's next breath before it can form into a word.

"Lucius, this charming lady here has some great suggestions. Would you mind"?

Taking the cue Lucius valiantly leads the poofy haired lady away to discuss her suggestions.

"Suggestions? I got one. How 'bout a haircut from this decade?" snorts the red haired woman snickering at her own joke.

Not impressed Bruce stares, waiting for her to continue.

"You know what, I think I can take it from here," says the tall beautiful woman.

The red haired lady steps back and joins the rest of the entourage. Bruce looks over at them and immediately notices her twin bodyguards. Simultaneously they take off their shades revealing piercing blue eyes, which show more prominently in contrast to the dark hue of their skin. A smile creeps onto both of their lips, smiles clearly not intended for polite reasons. Standing between them is a petite brunette of Eastern decent. She causes Bruce to pause and observe her for a moment. He notices how her eyes dart around the room ever so slightly in a calm yet patterned manner, how she distributes her weight perfectly between her legs, not standing back on her heels but up on her toes. She pays him no mind as if Bruce doesn't exist. Bruce wonders to himself who the true bodyguard really is.

"I am in town for a few weeks and I could not pass up the opportunity to meet Gotham's favorite son," the tall striking woman says.

Her voice turns Bruce's gaze away from her entourage back to her. Bruce has noticed the attention and open mouthed stares that she has been receiving from the crowd and knows better than to ask her who she is.

He quickly adds, "It's very nice to meet you."

She cocks her head slightly to the side curiously, not understanding his luke warm reception. Either Bruce Wayne likes to stay cool in all situations, she thinks to herself, or he has no idea who I am. If her publicist assumes the same it will anger her to no end and cause her face to match the red color of her hair, but for her, this strangely takes her interest in Bruce Wayne to a whole other level. She smiles and bites down on the corner of her lip trying hard to sustain her excitement, all the while staring dreamily into his eyes. For the first time in a long time she is speechless and does not know what to say next.

"Uh, so what brings you to Gotham? Bruce quickly puts in, sensing her tongue-tied state.

As predicted the publicist's cheeks are a rosy tinge and she has had about enough. She reaches into her bag and steps forward once again. "_Mandy Stone_", she says with the most extreme pronunciation and just the right amount of volume she can manage before it is considered a yell, "is in town for her well publicized Broadway musical 'Fame Children'which is playing for two weekends only, two weekends more than I would have allowed if it was up to me". She shoots Mandy a quick stern look and continues on, "As she has already mentioned, she could not pass up the opportunity to meet your acquaintance and for reasons beyond me has a strong desire for you to come and be her special guest at tomorrow evenings opening night." She hands out a ticket towards Bruce, which he accepts. "So consider yourself officially invited", she turns back to Mandy her attitude simmering down quite a bit, "Can we go now? This place is starting to stink."

Mandy rolls her eyes at her publicist then smiles brightly at Bruce. She moves in closer to him and lightly kisses him on the cheek then whispers in his ear, "Hope you can come."

She turns around whipping her long blonde hair about glowering at her publicist who steps in line with the rest of the entourage and follows her out. At about midway down the long table of food a fan steps up to try and get Mandy's autograph. One of the twin's places his large hand out stopping the fan cold. Mandy motions for the bodyguard to let the fan come through, she takes the pad and pen and hurriedly scribbles onto the paper. Mandy and the group take off again, leaving the fan without his favorite pen. She passes a plate of fresh cut melons and realizes she forgot to give the pen back. Without stopping she sticks the pen into one of the larger pieces of melon. Looking over at the handsome man's table, the one who helped her in, she playfully waves over then blows him a kiss and walks out of the hall leaving the stunned people a story that none of their friends will ever believe, a story that one handsome man in the hall hopes never to have to relive again.

* * *

Alfred Pennyworth stands straight and proud donned in his driver's outfit waiting by Master Bruce's 1939 Bentley. He opens the door for Bruce who sits down with a look of great contemplation on his face. Alfred gets behind the wheel and drives off.

"Will you be needing to head into town, sir? Alfred asks looking back at him through the rear-view mirror.

"No not today Alfred. I need to get back to the cave and do some work," he replies in a somber tone as he rests his elbow on the window frame and gently rubs his chin between his hands. He quietly looks out at the countryside in deep thought.

"More work to do on the significance of that elusive piece of paper you found last night I take it? Alfred asks.

Bruce comes alive at the mention of the paper.

"You know Alfred, It is all I have been able to think about today," Bruce states.

"I would think an enormously famous and quite attractive actress going out of her way to meet you would put a dent in that line of thinking. Possibly giving you something else to mull over in that ever working head of yours," he says in a matter of fact manner. Bruce brings himself to take his gaze away from the fast approaching skyline of his beloved Gotham and looks at the back of Alfred's head with great curiosity.

"How pray tell is it that you would know such a thing?" Bruce asks in between a smile.

"I just so happened to have a delightful conversation with the driver of Miss Stone's limousine," he replies.

Shocked, Bruce asks to no one in particular, "Am I the only person in Gotham that does not know who she is?"

"In your defense sir, you are a very busy individual who has virtually no time for entertainment," chimes in Alfred playfully.

"You've never driven the batmobile at top speed," Bruce retorts sitting back against the well-upholstered seats with an endearing grin.

Alfred so enjoys these tender moments when Master Bruce once again resembles the small boy he once knew. It never crosses Alfred's mind to hope for Master Bruce to cease being the Batman, this city and her people need the Dark Knight. But Alfred has come to realize, with some reservations, that after the untimely and tragic deaths of Bruce's parents that that young boy became more than what he was, that in some strange way Bruce died that day with Thomas and Martha. It is no longer a feasible option for Bruce to stop being Batman. For that to happen Bruce would simply have to quit breathing. For it is the Batman that drives Bruce, it is the Batman that defines him.

"Miss Stone's driver informed me of her wishes of having you attend her show. No doubt you will have an agreeable time. It will also be a great opportunity for Bruce Wayne to be out and about enjoying Gotham's nightlife. "

"I'm not going", responds Bruce.

If Alfred is surprised he does not let it show.

"May I ask why, sir"?

"She is rude and pretentious," he states boldly. You should have seen the scene she created back at the brunch. No, I don't think it will be a good idea. Besides I have work to do."

"You surprise me Master Bruce." Alfred responds calmly. "First I would like to point out, if I may be so daring, that Bruce Wayne has been as mysterious and reclusive as the Batman lately, and if one is to believe the two are separate individuals than I would suggest having the comparison between the two be as far from similar as possible. Bruce Wayne is a young man. A young _rich_ man. And he should be seen parading young beautiful women around town while spending enormous amounts of money on them. This is one such occasion that suits that scenario perfectly."

Alfred pauses to let the point sink in as Bruce thoughtfully looks on.

"As far as Miss Stone's antics go. . . . well. . . .what we allow others to see of ourselves is not always who we truly are. You of all people should understand that."

* * *

Jimmie Moretti was once a young vigorous man who held a lofty position in an elaborate crime syndicate. Today he is an out of shape, revolting, middle aged two-bit mobster. Jimmie, far removed from his ties with his former cohorts now pursues his semi successful self-made career of loan sharking. Although his current endeavors will never bring him the prominence and prestige he once held, it brings to him enough cash to afford all the oysters one man can handle and the added benefit of having something that was in short supply in his criminal youth. Pleasure. Pleasure of seeing people pounded to a pulp when the deadline to a loan has passed and the money owed has not been paid. Jimmie always makes it a priority to be present when such a moment happens.

Behind a popular Gotham nightclub in a dark filthy alley one such moment is taking place right now. Jimmie, who is never far from his silver bucket of raw oysters, slurps sloppily away at the fresh shellfish as his nephew, Antony, delivers blow after blow to the poor soul who has missed his payment deadline. Each hard blow reverberates against the walls of the alley, each punch sounding more vicious than the previous one.

Antony's cousin Tony, the youngest of the Moretti family, is spending his appointed time, as newcomers to the operation usually do, as Jimmie's assistant. The rest of the family affectionately refers to Tony as 'bucket boy'. His job is to stand close to his uncle Jimmie so that whenever the mood strikes him his uncle will never be more than an arm length away from a tasty snack. When the bucket gets low he then goes to the van that follows them wherever they go and fills it back up. At the moment Tony is trying to figure out whether the sick feeling he feels in his stomach is from the disgusting display of this uncle slurping down oyster after oyster or the horrible beating his cousin is giving to the unfortunate man. It may also stem from the look of pleasure that is on his uncle's face as he watches the beating unfold before his eyes.

Having taken in more than he can handle he turns back up to the entrance of the alley where Bruno, another cousin of his, stands looking out for cops while keeping unwanted passerby's from witnessing what's taking place further down the alley. The neon sign to the pawnshop just around the corner intermittently flashes in and out at irregular intervals eerily bathing his cousin in a green glow. As it flickers out his cousin becomes harder to see as the night's dark surrounds him only to flicker back on, revealing him once again. Tony swallows hard and thinks to himself that maybe he should not have entered into the family's business.

"What's going on, you daydreaming on me"? Jimmie asks snapping his fingers twice to get Tony's attention. "Pay attention here and take notes on what Antony is doing, you might have to do it yerself one day." He grabs another oyster cracks it open and throws it down his throat.

Antony stops to rest his aching fists as Tony strains to listen to the sounds of the music coming through the wall from the nightclub on the other side of it, wishing he were in there instead of out here.

Jimmie steps forward and Tony, with bucket, follows.

"Sylvester I told you this would happen if you didn't pay me my money, didn't I"? Jimmie waits for a response and continues when one doesn't come, "I understand if under the circumstances you don't answer me but Antony here, he don't like it when his uncle is disrespected. Do ya Antony?"

Following the cue Antony kicks Sylvester in the mid-section hard.

"Now from what I hear this club of yours is raking in the dough ever since I helped get you started. And from what I can see by the length of that line outside, those rumors are true. So I got one thing to ask ya, Sly. Where is my money!?"

Antony resumes his responsibilities when Tony looks back up to the entrance to the alley hoping that a cop will pass by and Bruno will tell them that they have to stop this and get going.

The green neon flickers out again engulfing Bruno in shadow when the telltale sound of Jimmie's ringed fingers banging around the bottom of the bucket searching for an oyster reminds him he has not been paying attention to his own duties. Just as he is about to go and replenish the bucket he hears a muffled sound towards the entrance of the alley that escapes Jimmie's ears. Snapping his head in that direction he looks for his cousin who at the moment is hid by the darkness. But as the neon flickers back to life Tony sees that the entrance to the alley is empty, Bruno is nowhere to be found.

Some sort of object flies by Tony's cheek in a blur. The rotating object strikes Antony in the back of the skull with a deep thud and knocks him face down into a pile of garbage bags. Tony watches in awe as the object flies back over his head returning to the direction it came from. He follows it and watches it get snatched out of the air by a gloved hand. Jimmie almost chokes on an oyster as he sees Antony drop, he then turns around to see a sight he was hoping never to have to see.

Replacing the batarang back into the depths of his cape Batman silently lurks in the shadows of the alley, Tony and Jimmie can barely make out his caped frame as he appears to just blend with the darkness like some inhuman nightmare come to life. Batman slowly steps forward slightly unraveling his shape from the dark, his eyes, the only part of his figure that reflects the small amount of light present in the alley, glow menacingly at Tony and Jimmie making his appearance even more frightening. The bucket falls to the floor disturbing the awkward silence. Batman walks completely out of the shadow and into the sporadic glow of the green neon. Being held by the back of the suit collar, Tony can see now what has come of Bruno, obviously out cold or worse his cousin's limp body is dragged out of the shadow by Batman and brusquely dropped in front of Batman's feet.

"Simpson Securities. Tell me what you know."

Jimmie clears his throat in an effort to try and regain some composure, "I don't know what you're talking about," he responds as Tony stands off to the side doing a great impersonation of a deer caught in headlights.

"Don't make me ask you a second time," declares Batman.

Jimmie snaps his fingers a few times and blurts out, "Simpson Securities, I uh, I think we have one of their safes back at the office, don't we Tony?"

In a blink of an eye Batman charges from his position over to Jimmie grabbing handfuls of his shirt and slamming him up against the brick wall.

Jimmie, putting his hands up into the air in submission quickly barks out, "Okay, okay. Yeah, yeah Simpson yeah alright."

Batman does not loosen his grip and continues to loom over Jimmie's face with a frightening contorted look multiplied many times over by the mask.

Behind Batman Antony slowly starts to get up out of the garbage. Jimmie catches a glimpse of this out of the corner of his eye.

"Back in the day the old crew I used to roll with . . . ." Jimmie looks past Batman to Tony, "Roll with, hey Tony, that's the way you guys say it nowadays huh?" Jimmie snaps his fingers, "These kids, I tell ya.

Batman's strengthens his grip.

"Simpson used to do some business for the old crew," Jimmie says quickly in a strained voice caused by Batman's firm grasp.

Antony now on his feet looks around to figure out what has happened and is startled at seeing the newcomer to the alley, the reason he took a face first dive into stinking garbage. Not one to have been thought of as the smartest guy on the block, Antony searches the floor finds a metal pipe and takes it into both hands.

Meanwhile Batman's jowls tighten and he moves in closer to Jimmie's face.

"Okay, okay on certain occasions when we needed money or certain sensitive materials transported, they having been an international business in all, they would stow away our stuff in hidden compartments inside the safes. The safes would then be moved to their destinations for later extraction of the hidden items, plain and simple."

Batman lifts Jimmie off the floor.

"They would also supply us secret access codes to some of their vaults that even the customer who bought the things didn't know about. We would periodically go in and take out small amounts of money from several different vaults at a time."

Trying to stall so Antony can get into position Jimmie continues on.

"They were an honest enough company providing a good product. They had the smarts enough to know a fruitful partnership when they saw one though. If ya know what I mean."

Antony slowly moves in behind Batman. He lifts the pipe over his head and brings it down hard and fast. At the last second Batman turns, moving Jimmie right under the swinging pipe. Batman allows Jimmie's unconscious body fall to the floor, in one smooth motion he then grabs the pipe still gripped tightly in Antony's hand and pulls it towards himself, bringing Antony along for the ride. He then shoves it back up striking Antony across the cheek and forehead. Antony lands on the floor right next to Jimmie and the silver bucket. Batman drops the metal pipe on Antony's chest then walks over and checks on Sylvester.

Without turning around he says, "Tony", Tony flinches at the sound of his name, "make sure this man gets medical attention."

Batman rises and walks right by him, a shiver runs down Tony's spine as he passes. Batman stops and slightly turns his head back.

"Tell Jimmie that this man's debt is paid in full."

A groan escapes Sylvester's mouth as he awkwardly tries to get on his feet. Tony goes over to help him, stepping over the unconscious bodies of his cousin and uncle. He realizes how fortunate he is that he is not laying on the concrete next to them. When he helps Sylvester up he turns back around to say thank you but finds that Batman has left as silently as he came.

After helping Sylvester to a bus stop bench across the street, he makes the call for an ambulance on his cell phone. He wonders what his uncle and cousins will think when they finally come to and find him not there. Maybe he will tell them that Batman kidnapped him and eventually let him go. They'd believe that. He didn't have the time to worry about that right now anyway. He had more pressing matters to take care of at the moment, and at the very top of his list was going home and getting himself a clean pair of underpants.


	2. Chapter 2

Seated in his high backed chair in front of the large video screen Batman sits in silence, deep in thought. The echoes of the bats above and beyond in concert with the low hum of all the equipment in the batcave sets the mood perfectly for Batman to further evaluate his current mystery. On the screen is an enlarged digital scan of the burnt piece of paper.

His memory quickly evaluates the encounter with Jimmie Moretti in the alley, he recalls the way Jimmie's eyes lit up with just a hint of alarm upon hearing a question put to him about Simpson Securities. His reaction to the name lasted only for a fraction of a second; Jimmie did well in hiding his response. But he told more in that fraction of a second than he did with all his combined words. Not too many people would have caught his slight error but it was easily detected by Batman.

Jimmie knew more than what he was saying. Batman quickly makes a mental note to take a trip down to Jimmie's office and see what else Jimmie is trying to hide.

Off to the side, the ticket given to him by Mandy Stone catches his eye. No doubt put there ever so conspicuously by Alfred. He picks it up and considers the possibilities of attending the show for a moment. There is no doubting that Mandy is a very attractive woman and it was also true what Alfred told him in the car that afternoon, he had not been out to enjoy himself as Bruce Wayne in quite awhile.

His gloved hands move over the keyboard in front of him swiftly, the image of the paper minimizes and moves down to the bottom left of the large screen. Several new windows appear showing status on police bulletins and alarms normally setup to alert Batman of any high profile inmate jailbreaks at Arkahm and local prisons. Everything looks quiet at Arkahm and the prisons, the police bulletins don't show anything that needs his special attention, there is nothing too hard that the Gotham police could not handle on their own. Besides he thinks to himself, Gordon did not forget how to use the bat signal. If Gordon needed him he would call.

Now that he did not have an excuse for not being able to attend the show and see Mandy, all that was left was to deal with the fact that the beauty on the outside of the attractive actress did not match what was present on the inside. He had been on dates with some pretty conceited woman but Mandy Stone took the prize. His fingers dance around the keyboard once again and the entire screen blanks out and is replaced by Mandy Stone's official website. He is reminded of Alfred's words and the way they were so bluntly put to him about how what the world saw of Mandy Stone could be nothing more than an image, a façade, a way to keep the camera's flashing and her name on people's lips.

With that thought it hits him. He sits up straight and brings the image of the burnt paper back onto the screen. Punching some keys he gets up from the chair and walks over to where the paper sits next to a microscope. He takes it in his hand and brings it over to another machine. He places it inside then walks back to the controls in front of the screen and enters the commands to start the procedure.

Alfred comes down the stairs wearing a smoking jacket and yawning profusely.

Seated back in the chair and watching the progress bar on the video screen Batman without turning around asks, "How was your card game? Did you win?"

"As a matter of fact we did, and quite a rout it was I might add," he says proceeded by another yawn.

Knowing Master Bruce as well as he does Alfred can detect his anticipation even through the mask. Curiously, Alfred looks up at the screen, being well versed with the various lab and test equipment in the batcave, he can easily determine that Master Bruce is running a spectroscopic analysis of the small piece of paper he found the other night, in order to ascertain the material makeup of the item.

"Anything new learned about this curious business that has you so engaged?"

"I went to speak with an ex-member of an extinct crime family that was pretty big some years back. Doing research on Simpson Securities I found that their association with this criminal organization was a large part in the company's downfall. Simpson Securities of course denied any dealings with the organization but rumors and many news articles kept the alleged partnership in the forefront of many of their more legitimate customers. That among other things finally caused the company to die away. Certainly the many unexplained break-ins of many of their top security vaults probably didn't help matters."

Alfred interrupts, "It seems you have spent your time researching this security company. Maybe it is the crime family that is more deserving of your scrutiny?"

"I've not counted that out, in fact I believe whatever I am going to discover has a lot to do with what went down between this crime family and the safe company. I'm just being thorough and making sure I don't miss anything along the way."

"As always, Master Bruce, just like to do my small part to try and keep you on your toes."

"As always, I am very appreciative of that. In fact something you told me this morning has lead me to not look at what the paper might signify but what the inside of the paper, the makeup of the paper might lead to. Normally this would have been one of the first steps I would have taken, but I must admit the way I was lead to this uncertain dilemma has taken up most of my attention." Alfred begins to open his mouth but Batman quickly injects, "And yes Mandy Stone's appearance this morning has been on my mind. And no I have not made up my mind about going to her show, but first things first."

A low tone goes of signaling the end of the test.

Batman quickly looks over the results of the test that are displayed on the large screen.

"Daphne", exclaims Batman quizzically.

"Daphne?" asks Alfred.

"Yes, this says the paper is made primarily from the Daphne shrub. It is an ingredient not normally used here in the West. It is often referred to as the 'Nepal paper plant'. It dates back to the 11th century where the Nepalese used the bark of the Daphne shrub to make Lama Paper. It's a handmade paper that can last for two to three hundred years."

Always amazed at Master Bruce's vast knowledge, Alfred adds, "So it is an odd material to use for ordinary paper, as this piece appears to be. I should think that little tidbit of information can lead you to the place where this particular paper was manufactured. I dare say not too many paper mill's would use this type of material."

Alfred yawns again, the longest and hardest yet. He turns deciding to retire for the night, leaving the rest of this mystery in Batman's capable hands.

As he reaches the bottom of the stairs he asks over his shoulder, "Is there anything I may get you before I turn in sir?"

After a few steps up the stairs and receiving no answer he turns around only to find an empty chair. The rumble of the batmobile's engine kicking over is the sole response Alfred will receive tonight. The engine roars, the tires squeal, and Alfred adds one final yawn before proceeding up to bed.

* * *

A large black limo pulls over and stops in front of the door to a mid-sized store, located in the low rent district. As the night has grown longer a chill wind has come in from the north, the first signs of fall approaching, the cars hot exhaust exits the rear of the car in large puffs of smoke. The street-side rear door opens and a large black man with blue eyes steps out. After closing the door he stands up straight making himself appear taller than his six foot nine inch frame suggests. He buttons the jacket of his pricey Italian suit, all the while looking up and down the street, when he is satisfied he walks around to the opposite side of the limo and opens the door. Exiting the limo is his mirror image, his twin brother. He too buttons up his matching suit while looking up the street as his brother looks down the street. Even at this hour of the night the two large men are cautious of the surroundings. A homeless man down the street picking through a garbage can poses no logical threat but they keep an eye on him anyway. The second twin extends his hand into the limo and helps out a woman wearing too many outer garments than is needed for this kind of weather. Closing the door behind her they walk her to the much neglected glass door to Jimmie's Fast Cash Loans. The absence of lights inside already tells her no one is in but she pulls at the door regardless. The grime on the door and large glass window where the name of the store is poorly displayed does not give her adequate visibility to look inside. She futilely wipes at the glass to no avail. Cursing under her breath she reluctantly heads back to the limo waits for her door to be opened and gets in. A few moments later the limo rolls down the street disappearing around the corner.

He watches the limo turn the corner and disappear. He doesn't know what to make of the scene that just took place six stories below. Batman recognized the bodyguard's, they would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere. Even with his binoculars though, he could not make out the heavily clothed woman. The last time he saw the twin behemoths they were a part of Mandy Stone's entourage. The woman trying so hard to keep her identity unknown was too short to be her. Maybe the two bodyguards while in town, decided to make an extra buck on the side on one of Mandy's off, "stay in nights".

"_If she ever has one of those"_, he thinks to himself.

Doubting that what just transpired has anything to do with this current mystery Batman decides to leave it be and continue with what has brought him out here. He is about to reach into his cape to retrieve his grappling hook when his senses go off. He brings his foot back down from the roof's ledge and puts his hand around a batarang instead. Feigning ignorance of the others presence he stays still and waits for it to make the first move. After a few quiet moments the feeling of being alone comes back. He stops and wonders curiously if his lack of sleep has put him on edge and a shifting of the wind had caused a false alarm in his senses.

After swinging over and landing on top of Jimmies office Batman walks over to the skylight and notices it has been blacked out with paint. It is obviously an indication of the illicit business practices that are held inside. The rear of the building gains Batman entrance via a second story window that was left unlocked. He finds himself inside a small room with a worn out desk and some dusty boxes lined up against each wall. Opening the door he comes out onto a second floor balcony overlooking the waiting room and receptionist desk below. Behind the desk and to the right is a door, no doubt the door to Jimmie's office.

He makes his way down the stairs and across the room to Jimmie's office, door easily picking the lock, he enters. The faint smell of seafood invades Batman's nose. Beyond the door is a small hallway. Directly ahead the hallway ends at a mirror and turns toward the left. Batman surmises that the mirror is actually a one-way window where one of Jimmie's thug's can sit with a semi-automatic trained on whoever walks through the door.

Turning left at the mirror the hallway opens up to Jimmie's office, which is a sight to behold. To come from the unkempt waiting area filled with worn second-hand furniture and then to walk into an office with plush carpeting, luxurious furniture, and valuable pieces of art comes as a surprise. Batman quickly assesses the room. To his right are two tall plants placed in front of a hidden door made to look like the wall, most likely the door that leads to the area behind the mirror. To the right of Jimmie's massive desk lies a fully stocked mini bar located up against a small wall that protrudes out toward the middle of the room. Batman searches the desk but finds nothing of interest. Behind the wall where the bar area sits he finds an arched walkway leading to a lounge were a large three-sided sectional sofa sits in front of a large LCD screen.

Walking into the lounge the smell of seafood is more pervasive, he comes across a door leading to a small kitchen and another arched walkway leading to an ascending staircase. Right above the couch and coffee table is the blacked out skylight and looking out over the lounge is a room with a long tinted window. He begins to head for the staircase to get to the room above and notices the many pictures set upon the long wall that leads to the stairs. Quickly searching them his eyes stop on a picture of a skinny younger Jimmie posing with a bunch of other menacing looking thugs. They are leaning up against a brick wall and on the wall Batman can make out the letters I L L the beginnings of the word are out of frame. He continues to look at the other pictures, which were taken more recently and seem to be of his family.

The phone on the coffee table rings. Batman continues to make his way down the long wall to the staircase while still viewing the pictures. An answering machine turns on and Jimmie's weak voice comes over the speaker.

"Tony you there? Tony? Where are ya kid? Pick up the phone. They want to keep me here over night and that dumb broad nurse of mine says they don't have any oysters on the hospital menu. Get over here boy. Gotham General as fast as you can." With that the phone call ends.

Batman clearly heard the trepidation and meekness in Jimmie's voice, quite a difference in the composure he had back in the alley. A small yet brief grin creeps onto one side of Batman's mouth.

He turns to his left and heads up the stairs to the upper room, his cape gently flowing behind him. Upstairs he finds a large bedroom with a king sized bed in the middle of the room facing the lengthy window overlooking the lounge below. Off in the corner next to the window is a large lavish armchair, on the floor just in front of it sits a box full of folders brimming with papers. He takes out a small flashlight kneels over the box and begins to search through it. The box and folders are covered with a layer of thick dust. Batman quickly looks around and cannot find a spec of dust on any surface in the room. He soon finds that the dates on some of the papers are from more than thirty years ago. One of the folders is labeled Simpson Securities, he opens it up and finds what looks like legitimate transaction receipts and inventory records recorded in a hand written ledger. 'Roland Amherst' is written over and over in the margins next to several large money transactions, digging deeper into the box he finds a folder assigned to Roland Amherst. Inside is a black and white picture of a tall lanky individual shaking hands with a man in a dark suit surrounded by a whole host of thugs. Standing next to the tall man is a short fat man looking on. A large red circle is drawn over the tall man's face. Roland Amherst's face. The accompanying papers show even larger money transactions with Roland Amherst, it too written in by hand. The rest of the box contains some dossiers of known mobsters and petty criminals from that era.

Batman looks at the picture of the men shaking hands. None of the people look familiar but the location where the picture was taken looks very similar to one of the pictures down stairs.

Batman shuts off the flashlight and places the folders back into the box. In the very next instant he finds himself flying head first into the long window.

Falling quickly to the lounge below amid a shower of broken glass, he tucks his head into his chest and slams into the coffee table, shattering it into little pieces. Upon impact he immediately goes into a roll and before he even comes up onto his feet he has a batarang in his hand. Snapping his head back up towards the upper room Batman catches only a glimpse of a large dark silhouette jumping out of the window after him. Batman hurls the batarang at his target and is instantaneously launched forward by a powerful kick to his back. Going over the couch Batman hits the floor and does a sideways roll towards the wall, vanishing into the shadow, hoping that the inky blackness of the gloom will give him some time to collect his thoughts and formulate a plan of action against whoever his adversaries may be.

Batman, despite being knocked around, wraps his cape around his body and moves, smoothly and steadily within the shadows, away from his current position, all the while keeping his eyes out for more attacks. He finally gets a good look at his opponents.

Trying hard to pierce the obscurity of the shadow the two attackers soon realize they have lost their prey to the darkness. The large twins, coordinated perfectly, turn their heads in opposite directions, piercing blue eyes trying to search the rest of the room for any sight of Batman. Smug grins are displayed on their faces confident that they are the ones that are in control of the situation despite the small detail of not knowing where the Batman has disappeared to.

Two small pellets fly out of the shadow and explode next to the twin's head. The small flashbangs disorientate the brothers causing them to clasp their hands to their ears. Batman flies out of the shadows landing a flying kick to the side of one of the twin's head, he then twists his body in mid-air smashing his other boot into the other twin's face. He lands in a crouched position, throws his cape behind him, and then quickly rises up delivering crossing blows to each twins lowered head. The massive bulk of the men absorb the hits better than Batman would have liked. Despite their temporary blindness Batman quickly decides to move out of range of their massive arms, he flips into a back hand spring, but one of the twin's immense hands amazingly enough, is able to grab the end of Batman's cape just as Batman's hands hit the floor. The man pulls the cape towards himself and his twin, stopping Batman's backward momentum. Batman slams face down into the floor just in front of the twins. The second twin brings his large shoe off the ground and stomps the floor just barely missing Batman who successfully rolls out of the way.

By now the ringing in the twin's ears and the splotches of light in their vision have already started to dissipate. Batman already back on his feet notices this. He decides to stand his ground and wait for the twins to make the next move.

Twin number One easily lifts up a section of the large couch and flings it at Batman, who easily evades the clumsy attempt, but then has to quickly evade a right cross from twin number Two who used the couch as a diversion to get in closer. Batman ducks under the incoming fist and follows with a spinning round house kick of his own that lands squarely on Two's left jaw. On instinct Batman goes to the floor with a leg swipe aimed behind him which catches One's leg causing him to go a bit off balance giving Batman time to move out of the bad position the twins almost caught him in. Batman can not comprehend such speed coming from men so large. Their smug grins still evident on their faces, their startling blue eyes seem to glow in the darkness.

After gaining a better position Batman moves towards the twins with a flurry of kicks and punches easily engaging both men at the same time. While a few attacks get beyond the twin's expert blocks the ones that land seem to not have any effect at all. His lightning fast offensive manages to keep the twins at bay. While they block the ferocious attacks from Batman they themselves can not respond with any of their own.

As Batman continues his offensive he observes their unique fighting style, probing their defenses for weaknesses. Throwing punches and launching kicks that he knows will not land in order to find the right spot to launch his next attack, only to have the other twin respond with their own defensive move that protects the other brother from their momentary lapse in defense. While Batman studies the twins he begins to put together the pattern that has presented itself before him. The twins do not act independently from each other; their movements actually seem to be choreographed with one another. Each of their movements are precisely planned to enhance the others attacks, it is done in so fine a manner that to Batman it seems that more than just years of practice has produced such a technique. But rather it seems that a joining of thoughts and feelings is at the core of the twin's fighting style, for they seem to adapt and adapt quickly to new situations in chorus, making up a very formidable if not impossible foe to overcome.

Batman's excellent conditioning would allow him to keep up his offensive for a lot longer but he decides that this course of action has taught him all he is going to find out about the twins and the present struggle. While all the action is doing a number on the lounge is not getting him any closer to a victory.

Subtlety allowing the tide of the fighting to switch in a more favorable way for the twins, Batman, slowly begins to allow them to get their own swings in. Faking the signs of exhaustion to them, Batman allows some of their blows to land. When he is convinced that he has them fooled he allows one of them to get behind him. Sensing their excitement and eagerness to end the fight with a victory he lures them in hoping that their awareness drops. Unbeknownst to the twins Batman has successfully anticipated their actions to know that when he makes a move he knows exactly what move they will counter with.

A left comes flying at Batman who ducks under it and waits for the knee to meet his downward momentum, when it makes contact he rolls up with it not allowing it to enact its full potential. The twin behind Batman sees his opportunity and initiates his own attack of two massive clenched fists in a downward swing. Batman moves out of the way in a blast of energy that surprises the twins. He gets behind the twin in front of him and uses the big man's weight against him successfully throwing him into the pathway of the oncoming fists. Already committed, the attacking twin can not stop his momentum, and the full strength of his fists collides with his brother.

The hit clearly had more an effect than Batman had with any of his own. Groggily the stricken twin straitens up and shoves his brother in anger then quickly turns his head back towards Batman.

"_Exactly what I wanted"_, Batman says to himself.

One is mad at the other for the hit and the one who did the hitting is furious at Batman for causing it.

Fighting with anger was always a mistake, all the skilled fighters who ended up on the losing end of a battle with an inferior opponent because they fought while angry could attest to that.

They resume their attack in a more rushed and clumsy manner. Batman conserves energy now that he does not need to block any of their attacks, due to their emotions getting the best of them. Batman is able to easily dodge their kicks and swings with his arms hiding inside his cape in a seemingly relaxed posture. This just helps to build upon the two men's anger. A rush of air is felt by Batman every time an arm or leg goes by, showing him how much force the twin's are now putting behind their swings. And when each and every attempt to do bodily harm to Batman fails the anger inside of them grows ever stronger. If indeed these twins have some sort of telepathic link between them it is doing no good for them now.

They have relied so long on their complimentary fighting style that when their communication is interrupted as it is currently, their fighting prowess is greatly reduced, turning them into two well muscled above average fighters. Batman moves in between them and kicks forward, straight into the gut of one twin and with a backward thrust dives the same boot into the gut of the twin behind him. He quickly follows up those stunning blows that have some effect on the twins now that they have expended so much energy, with a flashbang thrown at the floor.

Having had just about enough than they can handle the twins balance themselves from the feeling of the room spinning around them and reach out blindly in front of them grabbing hold of the first thing their hands land on. When they realize they have a grip on one another they pause for a split second. Which is a split second too long, for Batman takes the opportunity and grabs in each hand one of their corn rows and forces their heads straight into the wall. One of the twins falls to his knees the other down to the floor, quivering in an effort to pick up their large bodies.

Standing amid the broken furniture and shards of glass Batman looks on at the two defeated foes still trying desperately to get up. As soon as he begins to relax, the feeling Batman had up on the roof of another presence, returns. He readies himself but it's too late. The only thing Batman can do is suffer the sharp pain that accompanies the blow to the back of his neck and succumb to the darkness that quickly overcomes him.

"Bruce!"

"Bruce!" comes his name again from somewhere just beyond reach. Either from his distant memory or spoken from the next room, he cannot tell. Is it his own voice he hears? Alfred's? Or maybe……..

"Bruce."

Spoken with love and strength the sound of his name gives him a feeling of such security and warmth. He cannot remember the last time he felt this way. Alfred had always been so good to him, better than most parents are to their children, but this was different.

"Bruce." the name comes to him as if carried by the wind, this time said by two different voices. His name stays with him long after it is spoken, slowly and softly trailing away from him. He tries hard to keep it with him to somehow grasp it and hold onto it forever.

"_Father………Mother!"_

The realization of his beloved parents calling to him strikes to the core of his being.

"Father!" The sound of his own voice releases him from his semi conscious state. He cannot open his eyes fully, the brightness in the room prevents him from doing so. Shielding his eyes with his arms he quickly gets to his knees and finds himself in the middle of a raging fire which is currently consuming Jimmie's lounge.

The smoke quickly penetrates his lungs. Even in such circumstances Batman looks for the safety and well being of others, even of those who might not be deserving of it. Looking over for the twins he finds that they are already gone. From the corner of his eye he catches a glimpse of something, looking over he sees his utility belt lying off to the side overwhelmed by fire. He then becomes aware of the condition that he is in. His cape is torn and ripped off and pieces of his suit are cut away exposing skin. The cowl while damaged still remains pretty much intact. His sore side tells him that they did not limit their abuse to just his suit, his ribs while not broken, feel like they received a few good kicks while he was down and out.

Weakened by the consuming flames a section of the upstairs bedroom floor falls to the ground getting Batman up off his knees and looking around for a way out. His first instinct is too leave by way of the above skylight. But his belt and equipment are currently turning to ash a few feet away. A large section of the fire blocks the way back towards Jimmie's office so Batman scrambles over the pieces of fallen floor and makes it into the kitchen. He charges to the back of the kitchen kicking open the door. Stumbling into the trash cans on the other side of the alley he braces his body up against the alley wall and thankfully breathes in the fresh cold air.

In the distance he can hear sirens fast approaching. Dawn is not far off either. The Batmobile is parked only a few blocks away and so Batman walks in that direction away from the burning building, disappearing into the night.


End file.
